


Feel the City Breakin' (and Everybody Shaken')

by redwinehouse (orphan_account)



Series: Cranial Capacity INDEFINITE HIATUS, BUT A FULL STORY LINE WAS COMPLETED [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 15:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11717070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/redwinehouse
Summary: The mastermind behind the infanticides reveals himself while you're home alone.





	Feel the City Breakin' (and Everybody Shaken')

  


[ ](http://www.dazzlejunction.com/generators/image-generator.php)

  


“Can you get the baby, sweetheart? She’s crying.” 

You were pulled from the depths of sleep to find that the baby was very much crying. 

“Will you please get her? I dealt with her last time.” Sherlock didn’t answer and you gave an aggravated huff before you went to shake his shoulder. 

The bed was empty. 

You shot up, looking around the room. Perhaps you were hearing things. Maybe your brain gave you some sort of dream that triggered you to wake up for Jade? That was a reach. Thinking quickly, you dashed to your closet and grabbed Sherlock’s whale harpoon. It may be over kill. But it also might not be. 

Your heart beating like a hummingbird, you slowly got out of bed and silently made your way across the room. With speed that would make a snail proud, you turned the doorknob and opened your bedroom door. You flicked on the light. 

No one. 

“She’s really crying, love. I’d get to it.” 

Your hand flew over your mouth. He was in Jade’s room. Tip-toeing, you put your back against the wall next to the door so that it was not exposed. You learned that was the first step to taking down an intruder. Then, you had to check to see the situation by peaking around the corner with your weapon drawn, shoulder touching the door frame, and then fully engaging if the conditions were right. You had learned a thing or two over the years. 

Taking in a deep breath, you kicked open the door and found nothing but your wailing daughter. Feeling like a fool, you dropped the harpoon and scooped Jade up. 

“I’m so sorry,” you soothed, “it’s okay.” 

You checked to see if she was wet and found that she was perfectly dry. She certainty wasn’t hungry. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” 

“I might have been too loud and scared her. Sorry ‘bout that.” 

You screamed, nearly throwing Jade to the floor. You turned in a full 360, but you were completely alone. 

“Where are you?” 

There was a pause before you got an answer. “You know, I actually have _no idea_.” The voice, clearly a male, laughed, “Isn’t that _funny_?” 

“No,” you said without thought, eyes desperately scanning the room. They finally landed on the baby monitor. “Oh my God,” you whisper in horror. 

“ _Here I ammm_!” he sang. “Mind picking the thing up? I feel like I won’t be taken that seriously if the stupid thing was attached to a crib,” he chuckled. 

After putting Jade to bed, you picked up the monitor and headed downstairs. 

“Just who the hell are you and how do you know my family?” you snarled. 

He scoffed in amusement. “Now what kind of person would I be if I went around introducing myself without the whole family present?” 

Your blood ran cold. You sat on the sofa and wrapped yourself in a blanket. The warm living room had suddenly become frigid and unwelcoming. 

“How do you know all of this?” you asked, making sure to keep your voice even. 

The monitor crackled with his deep sigh. “It’s not like it’s that hard to see through window, dear.” 

You bolted up and shut all the curtains. 

“S’not going to _heeeeeeel- **p**_ ,” he tilled, popping the ‘p'” 

Anger had started to replace your fear. “Why are you doing this? Did St. Patrick banish you with the other snakes?” you spat. You heard an intake of breath. He must have been impressed. 

“Oh, I _like_ you. I can see why our little Sherlock likes to keep you around.” 

You leaned forward. “What do you want with him?” 

“I’ll let you know in about twenty seconds, sweetheart.” 

“Wha-“ 

Sherlock and John flew into the room. 

“It came to me that I could sample DNA from the cigarette ashes and other residue from the second body,” Sherlock fired at you, taking off his coat and scarf. “I was too upset to deduce it earlier, but if this works we are more than likely to find –“ 

“SHERLOCK!” you screamed. 

Sherlock looked at you, wide eyed. You held up the monitor. 

“Am I talking to Sherlock now or are we just playing the quiet game because I’m terrible at it,” the voice joked. 

Sherlock’s brow furrowed and he sat next to you. Everyone had gone quiet. 

“Who is this?” 

“Jim, Jim Moriarty. _Hiiiiii_.” 

Your breath hitched and your stomach clenched. His voice had gone dangerously flat, yet somehow still had a charismatic, musical air to it. It was nothing short of sinister and utterly terrifying. 

If Sherlock was un-nerved, he didn’t show it. “What do you want?” he asked coolly. 

There was a tapping noise. It sounded like Moriarty was drumming his fingers as he thought. 

“Well, I’d like to psychologically break you piece by piece until you shatter and burn the heart that has so lovingly been created right out of you. Sound good?” 

Sherlock shifted, his face still stone. “And why would you do that?” 

“Um, mostly because I’m just bored. And because I can.” He paused for a moment. “You see, you interest me, Sherlock. Not enough for me to let you live, but I want to play a game.” 

Sherlock brought the monitor closer to him. “Have you been the one killing the girls?” 

“ **Ugh** I thought you were smart! You shouldn’t even have to ask. Whaaaaatever. ttyl.” He hung up. 

The flat was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. John was the first to speak. 

“Sherlock, this has gotten bigger than us. That man is an absolute lunatic who wants to have your head. We need to tell someone.” 

Sherlock was silent. He sat on the couch with his fingers in a steeple and a look in his eyes that was hard to read. 

“No, there’s nothing else anyone can do. We know the person and the motive. He is only interested in me. Anyone else outside of this room is only baggage,” he said lowly, clearly deep in thought. He reached out and took your hand. “Go back upstairs and settle down. I need to think.” He lightly stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. “I’ll be up in a bit.” 

He looked at John. “You stay down here.” 

“Well, okay then,” John answered a tad sarcastically before plopping down in his chair. 

Sherlock looked up at you, a mixture of worry, exhaustion, and affection painted on his face. “Go,” he tilted his head to the stairs. You turned to leave, but not before you kissed his forehead. 

You crawled onto your bed and sat up. There was no way you could wait lying down. You chewed your thumb nail as the minutes ticked by. 

Who the hell was this James Moriarty and why did he want to tear your family apart? Because he was bored? What kind of psychopath lived with that mindset? Not to mention he had been spying on you for some time. You felt completely violated and now extremely paranoid. Perhaps the most unsettling thing was his personality. He was utterly terrifying while somehow remaining incredibly playful. How could you talk about ripping someone apart and still sound so musical? 

You grabbed a pillow and hugged it to your chest. You had never been more afraid.

**Author's Note:**

> I am deceased.


End file.
